Indemnity
by Hazel Fior
Summary: Fourth in the Remember Me Series. Angel sets the ground rules for Spike while at the same time having to deal with a small problem of his own. Warning: definite slashy components.


Arriving back on the third floor after his argument with Wesley, Angel was determined to talk to Spike immediately. However, this decision was quickly forgotten once he actually laid eyes on the younger man. 

When he opened the bedroom door, the light from the hallway cut a swatch across the sleeping figure draped across the king-size bed. The platinum blond hair stood out in sharp contrast against the deep blue of the satin sheets. The pale skin of the face and torso was also emphasized, drawing the older vampire's eyes along angular jaw lines and muscular arms. The brunette could detect the faint line of the jugular as it made its way up the smooth column of neck, marred only by the faint scar of puncture wounds. The pallid chest accentuated the rouge of the nipples, making the older vampire unconsciously lick his lips at the erotic sight.

Angel visibly flinched back as he realized suddenly that looking at Spike had given him a rather evident erection. Cursing his traitorous flesh, the brunette took one last glace at the wanton form sprawled across the bed, then retreated quickly from the room. Obviously his talk with Spike about the ground rules of living in the hotel was going to have to wait until Spike put a shirt on. 

*********

It wasn't until late afternoon that Angel finally got another opportunity. He had been shuffling through papers for an hour and a half, trying hard to pretend that he wasn't still visualizing a half-naked Spike instead of focusing on overdue invoices. In the tense silence of the lobby this was rather difficult.

He had been pointedly ignored by the ex-cheerleader ever since she and Gunn had come back from their early lunch a few hours ago. At first Angel had found the silence oppressive and unnerving. Upon further reflection, however, he decided that anything was better than being yelled at again. So he flipped through the late bills and attempted to chase every last image of exposed male flesh out of his mind's eye. He was even making some progress in this endeavor when a glance at the staircase completely overwhelmed him.

Halfway down the steps was Spike. The blond's sleep-flattened hair stuck straight up on one side and remained plastered to his head on the other. His normally restless blue eyes were rubbed with pale fists as the younger man tried to drive the last vestiges of sleep from them. His clothes (including, a relieved Angel noted, a shirt) were rumpled and he was barefoot. All in all, Spike was sexy as hell. And, though Angel would never, ever admit to thinking it, adorable.

When the smaller man was still one step up from the bottom, Angel was suddenly lost in startlingly cerulean orbs as Spike moved his hands from his face and glanced around the room. Barely acknowledging the humans, the blond strode confidently across the floor to where the older vampire was trying like mad not to notice the liquid ease with which Spike's muscles moved beneath his tight black t-shirt and jeans. Jumping abruptly to his feet, the Irishman pulled his striking grandchilde into the kitchen before bits of the brunette's anatomy could betray him once again in front of everyone.

Angel was well aware that after sleeping all day the blond was hungry and would instinctively go out to hunt as soon as full darkness fell. Therefore it was imperative to curb the younger vampire's behavior now, before Spike attacked someone and unwittingly broke Angel's promise to Wesley. 

After hesitating for several moments, uncertain about how to go about discussing this kind of request (well, let's face it, command), the Irishman began. 

"Spike...I took you in to help you regain your memory, but I am also supposed to keep an eye on you for Buf- the Slayer," he corrected himself quickly. "While you're staying here, there are a few rules you need to follow," he paused, studying the unguarded face in front of him. Seeing that he had the blond's undivided attention, he went on, "No hunting is the first one." 

Spike blinked at him, shocked. "Why not?"

"Because I will not allow it."

"But-" Spike was not convinced, and Angel didn't really blame him. Hunting and the drinking of blood were, after all, the most important parts of being a vampire. Nevertheless, there was no way the brunette could leave any question in the younger vampire's mind about what was and was not acceptable behavior.

After a quick internal deliberation, Angel decided that the best way to handle the situation was to call upon his authority as Spike's surrogate Sire - the same authority that he had repudiated only the night before when he had rejected the other man's advances. However, this was no time to dwell on his own duplicity. Instead, he focused on making damn sure that Spike would understand the gravity of his instructions. Calling up the spirit of Angelus, he snarled, "Because I said *no*, boy. And you will under no circumstances harm any of the humans sitting out there. Do you understand me?"

Spike gave him a completely astonished look. Then, with a confused nod, he answered, "All right, Angel." 

Even though Spike didn't understand the reason for the instruction, he was forced by the binds of blood to follow it. Angel allowed himself to wallow in the power of Sirehood for a moment before he swiftly squashed his enjoyment. It was dangerous to begin to enjoy these old rituals because he knew only too well where it would lead. 

The older man pulled two cartons of blood out of the refrigerator and handed one over. "When you're hungry, you'll have these and only these. Understood?"

Spike nodded again, sniffing the animal blood with a disgusted expression. Angel watched him until the blue eyes glanced up to meet his own dark ones again. They stared at each other for a moment, then the brunette turned away jerkily and shoved trembling hands in his trouser pockets. Turning back when he reached the door, he spoke quietly to the blond who now observed his every move. 

"I have to get back to work...you're welcome to join me if you want to."

Spike blinked rapidly several times. "Work? A-a job?" The demon within him was surely howling at the indignity of such a thing, the utter *humanness* of it. Revolting to a creature of Spike's Master vampire status, memory loss or not. The blond's brow crinkled as he tried to somehow connect Angel's advanced age and a nine-to-fiver. Eventually he gave up and openly gaped at the other man, obviously beginning to wonder if Angel might not be a tad touched in the head. In the end, it was probably only curiosity and a deep-seated sense of duty that prevailed upon the perplexed demon to nod and follow the brunette back into the lobby. 

The air of perplexity only seemed to grow once the smaller vampire patiently watched Angel ask Wesley what Spike could do to help. It was not so much what Angel was asking as the respectful tone and contrite body language he used when addressing the mere mortal that surprised him. Catching the blue eyes once more, it was obvious to the cursed vampire that Spike had questions, but the bottled blond seemed content to hold his tongue for the time being. 

Pushing a stack of books over to Spike, Angel hastily outlined the research the others were doing on a roving clan of Kwalsis demons.

"Why don't you have a pile of books, too?" his grandchile asked, eyeing the papers scattered across Angel's workspace. 

"I've never been very good at the research part of it...and, ah, Wesley thinks I'd be better at this," Angel explained lamely, returning to his abandoned pile of invoices. It occurred to him that he had just passed up a prime opportunity to discuss the past with Spike in the kitchen. On the other hand, Spike had yet to ask him about any of it, either. Perhaps Wesley was right; the matter needed to rest until Spike came to him for answers. But why hadn't he? If Angel had lost his memory, the first thing he would do was pester any and every one for the truth about himself. So why didn't Spike seem at all interested in doing just that? Still turning that question over in his mind, he took a quick glance over at the younger vampire.

Head bent over his assigned stack of books, Spike was about as far from William the Bloody as could be imagined. Absently the blond rested his chin in his hand, focused entirely on the pages of text before him. Angel watched attentively as Spike first licked his finger to turn a page, then licked his lips with a darting pink tongue until a faint sheen of moisture lingered on the sensual mouth. Angel shifted in his chair as his instantly hard member began to rub uncomfortably against the seam of his pants. It appeared that having Spike around was going to make unlife a lot more interesting than Angel had ever imagined. 

-end-


End file.
